ACT II

4. SCENE IV. A Street.

GLOSTER.
Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud,
And after summer evermore succeeds
Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold;
So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.
Sirs, what's o'clock?

SERVINGMEN.
Ten, my lord.

GLOSTER.
Ten is the hour that was appointed me
To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess.
Uneath may she endure the flinty streets,
To tread them with her tender-feeling feet.--
Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook
The abject people gazing on thy face
With envious looks, laughing at thy shame,
That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels
When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets.--
But, soft! I think she comes; and I'll prepare
My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries.

[Enter the DUCHESS OF GLOSTER in a white sheet,
and a taper burning in her hand; with SIR JOHN STANLEY,
the Sheriff, and Officers.]

SERVINGMEN.
So please your Grace, we'll take her from the
sheriff.

GLOSTER.
No, stir not for your lives; let her pass by.

DUCHESS.
Come you, my lord, to see my open shame?
Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze!
See how the giddy multitude do point,
And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee!
Ah, Gloster, hide thee from their hateful looks,
And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame,
And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine!